Fat and disgusting,
the manatee eats and *****
with endangered grace.

Choreographed fits
awaken society
to its slow decline.

Politicians race
to win the seat but forget
how to act like men.

Why isn't there a
sociopath filter built
into the system?

The shouting face of the sea
Ravages rocks on the toes of the beach
Seashells glued to glass
laminate the reflecting rays of the baking sun  
A pebble preaches to a mountain
Underneath an electric dream
Galvanize my heart,
It needs a jump-start
Stuck in a frozen tundra of fallacy
Chasing broken tragedies
I told her
I tried
Nothing seems to change the mind
So I guess I’ll have to lie
Praying a lion’s smile
captures her immaculate eyes
But my summer’s luck lacks the ability to clear cloudy skies
Now I am alone in a misty meadow
With taciturn trees
Yet you were like the warm belly of a manatee
And I was a calloused heart  hoping for a remedy

It's early,
And yet I see the faint glimmer of the future,
It's undulating just over the horizon like a sea cow;
Adorable and ignorant.
A heavy beast, capable of violence,
And in need of protection.
I hope I have the strength.

I will love you no matter how many mistakes I make when trying to reduce fractions, and no matter how difficult it is to memorize the periodic table. I will love you as the manatee loves the head of lettuce and as the dark spot loves the leopard, as the leech loves the ankle of a wader and as a corpse loves the beak of a vulture. I will love you as the iceberg loves the ship, and the passengers love the lifeboat and the lifeboat loves the teeth of the ***** whale, and the ***** whale loves the flavor of naval uniforms. I never want to be away from you again, except at work, in the restroom or when one of us is at a movie the other does not want to see.

I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where we once were so close that we could slip the curved straw, and the long, slender spoon, between our lips and fingers respectively. I will love you until the chances of us running into one another slip from slim to zero, and until your face is fogged by distant memory, and your memory faced by distant fog, and your fog memorized by a distant face, and your distance distanced by the memorized memory of a foggy fog. I will love you no matter where you go and who you see, no matter where you avoid and who you don’t see, and no matter who sees you avoiding where you go. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this, and no matter how I am discovered after what happens to me as I am discovering this.

I will love you as a drawer loves a secret compartment, and as a secret compartment loves a secret, and as a secret loves to make a person gasp, and as a gasping person loves a glass of brandy to calm their nerves, and as a glass of brandy loves to shatter on the floor, and as the noise of glass shattering loves to make someone else gasp, and as someone else gasping loves a nearby desk to lean against, even if leaning against it presses a lever that loves to open a drawer and reveal a secret compartment. I will love you until all such compartments are discovered and opened, and until all the secrets have gone gasping into the world.

I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence, and as justice loves to sit and watch while everything goes wrong.

I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday.

Strange as it may seem, I still hope for the best, even though the best, like an interesting piece of mail, so rarely arrives, and even when it does it can be lost so easily.

Life will never end when you are in it.”

There are not enough
   poems about manatees
If you are interested in human
   rights being kicked like a dog
   and justice being dragged
   through mud, you can find it
If you are interested in love
   that aches with a “burning
   heart” or a “bleeding soul”
   you can find it
If you are interested in death
   that holds out its hand
   to you like relief, or takes
   one too early, you can find it
But where, I ask, do you find
   a badger in a turtleneck?
Or a cup of coffee that doesn’t
   sound so self important?    
If you’re interested in the
   ocean or the sea or maybe
   a single “crushing wave
   of emotion,” you can find it
If you’re interested in God
  dying to save you, or God
  abandoning you to the darkness
  you can find it
If you’re interested in athletics—
   especially running towards
   dreams and horizons—and
   losing and winning, you can find it
But where, I ask, do you find
   a good left-handed centipede?
Or a wonderful, ice cold beer that
   doesn’t turn into alcoholism?
If you want to find a poem about
   how the “gray rain spills from
   the clouds like the pain”
   you can find it
If you don’t want to find a poem
   about rain you’ll still find it
   (cause those rain poems
   are everywhere)
If you’re looking for a poem
   about regret and forgiveness
   and cruel mercy making false    
   promises, you can find it
But where, I ask, do you find
   a barbarian ballerina?
Or a cigarette whose smoke doesn’t
   outline the shadows of a lost soul?  
Show me these things, show me
   a fat manatee, and I will finally
   take a deep breath and smile

Not as eloquent
as a fountain pen,
not as artistic
as a sketching pencil,
not even as bright as a magic marker,
but one smart cookie to your kids.
We have cool names like
Cotton Candy, Manatee,
Razzmatazz and Inchworm,
and are non-toxic sticks of joy
to those little imaginations.

Yes, we sometimes look like
clumps of colored wax
smashed into tissue paper,
and we do break easily
or lose our wrappers at the drop of a hat,
then get tossed in a bag
or worse, become homeless.
And horror of horrors!
We’re reinvented as candles
or reheated into twisted zombies
of our former selves.

And neither do our achievements
reside in a museum or gallery,
why they're not even framed
and proudly displayed on a wall.
No, they're slapped on ***** refrigerators
and kept there by plastic alphabet
magnets that loosely spell
such mundane things
as ‘milk’, ‘cheese’ or ‘daddy is dumb,'
until they fall to the floor
or end up in the trash.

But hey man,
give us a break!
This is our plight,
it’s a harsh existence!
Perhaps we should organize,
form a union for children’s
writing and drawing utensils,
and thus ensure equality
for us crayons?

We realize, more than likely,
this poem's title will cause
some backlash by those
who insist it be called
‘Return of the Crayon,’
because we 'happy sticks', you see,
supposedly don’t take revenge.

Nonetheless, we stand by it.
It is what it is!
Your children love us
and so should you!

You stop what you are saying
as you stare at me...
You then say, "Well,
what of Humanity?"

My eyes go wide
as I reply, "Why?"
You say back to me,
"Because."

"OH! It's a manatee."

I've always been poisoned at the words of people
Living in a world stuck between lesser evils
They told me I was unlovable for humanity
They would address me as 'you manatee'
And I just started believing that I was unlovable.

Unlovable is another name for a soul
Who will slowly and surely roam alone
Unlovable just means ugly, fat and pathetic.
And I agree with you all,
        I am unlovable...

Exploring unforseen frontiers,
the Basil Confederate meets
a prayer called Monday.
Huddle your anticipation,
my Manatee is growing restless

Tell me now what time it is
Now I'll ask your dog the same
Not because they don't understand
No, they don't even know the day.
It's occurred to me that humans
Are the only ones that know our fate
We're the only ones that even care
Animals only care to procreate.
I've come to senses, got the math
And now I really see it all
I know exactly just how long I'll live
Know the memories I'll recall.
My fish doesn't know it's 11:32
And the giraffes don't get New Years
The only thing the rabbit worries about
Is The Turtle and The Hare.
We're the only ones that worry
About how soon we'll reach the end
If we're reaching to the heavens
Or if we'll be condemned.
It's solely us that understand
Our own mortality
Manatee's haven't got a grip
Time is our own insanity.
And if you boil it down to the very end
Ignoring all the rest
Time steals our mindfulness
He committed a real, true theft.
So now if you'll join me in forgetting
That I'm human and I will die
Let's forget that Time is really there
Escape with me, if you don't mind.

Internal Corruption
A ticking time bomb for a disastrous eruption
An endless tug-of-war
Your mind your body can’t handle this anymore
Swaying back and forth
Back and forth
Near your last gasp
There’s something to grasp
Your last bit of sanity
Like a calm plump manatee
It lays there firm
A foundation now can be set for the long term